By MacKenzie Gellner
Photos by the Author
We knew it wouldn’t be easy, but we didn’t think it’d be so tough.
Under the hot Florentine sun and lack of water, we didn’t know if we’d make it. But we had to try. We had to make it to Firenze Rocks, the music festival running three days in Florence. But we were only going to be there for one, so there was no room for mistakes.
Our first instinct as millenials was to look for an app.
We waited anxiously along one of the corners of the Duomo, eyeing every vehicle that galavanted down the tight street, but it was never for us. We kept waiting, yet the one we called for never arrived.
What could have happened? Was everything alright? This we’ll never know. But we couldn’t wait around; time was ticking and there was much to lose.
Forced to revert to historic ways, our hands raised. We balanced on the edge of the street, and from there, we waited in silence.
The suspense grew as each minute passed. Our hearts quietly paced.
We could’ve walked, but who’s to say if we would have survived that journey under the heat wave. There was no time to think of the what ifs though, time was no longer in our favor.
As hopes started to fade and hands started to falter, a trusty steed then hugged the curb.
Without hesitation, we waved it down and ordered it to drive. In a false sense of relief, we relaxed our legs and dreamed of our final destination.
But we were too proud of our success, and we would pay the price for it.
The cab slowed to a halt at an unknown destination. We scavenged for change and then turned blankly to the horizon. Where were we? Nothing was familiar, how would we find our way?
Luckily, we noticed herds of humans in the distance. At the assumption we were all the same, we followed blindly.
The walk was longer than expected, and with no water, the heat was getting difficult to manage. But we had come so far, we couldn’t stop now.
From afar, we could see the back of the towering stage. Our excitement built. This was it.
When we finally got into the arena, it was overwhelming. Fanatics filled the open space with drinks in their hands and merchandise on their backs. Festivals are not for the weak; it is survival of the fittest. You can’t show mercy if you want to see the British music magician.
With our lack of fluency in the foreign language, we feared fighting through the crowd voiceless. Except we were too far. We couldn’t give up now, otherwise all we’d see was an orange speck moving along the grande platform.
A battle was not prepared for, but we had handled them before in our home countries.
Strategically we moved to the edge of the stage to see if we could get closer from there before getting caught in the elbows and angry glares.
Then our luck struck.
There was a second entrance within the crowd that divided a smaller squad from the rest. We thought we would have to develop a manipulative plan to get through, but in fact, we were one of them.
With our green pit wristbands tightly strapped on, we gave a look to the guard. There was anticipation in the air, but he nodded us through.
Our hearts filled as we danced by the other travelers gated from us.
Our journey was a long one, but we knew it would be worth it to see Ed Sheeran belt his hits onto a crowd singing along as one. It was a moment of togetherness as everyone’s treacherous travels came together to be celebrated by the soothing sound of a guitar and enchanting voice.
There were friends and families, lovers and laughers; but in that moment we were all just a bunch of happy humans who knew every word to every song.
And as rain began to sprinkle down onto our exhausted shoulders during the iconic wedding song Photograph, nothing mattered but that glorious moment.